


champagne

by postalcoast



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, MorstonWeek2020, bathing together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:29:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25907368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/postalcoast/pseuds/postalcoast
Summary: “I gotta say, Marston, it don’t look like you’re huntin’ for any leads,” Arthur says. The water is still hot enough that it stings his skin, but the heat is something he gets used to eventually.John is laid back in front of him, back against Arthur’s chest and his head dropped back against Arthur’s shoulder. The tub is too small to fit both of them properly, and John has resorted to letting his feet rest propped up over the edge.
Relationships: John Marston/Arthur Morgan, implied John Marston/Arthur Morgan/Abigail Roberts Marston
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30
Collections: Morston Week 2020





	champagne

**Author's Note:**

> meant to be read as a prequel to "sweet talk" but idk

John Marston had proven himself to be a hard man to find in the past, although however - luckily, this wasn’t one of those times. After heading into Valentine after the train robbery, John was likely to be one of two places: the saloon, or the hotel. 

Seeing as Old Boy was hitched right in front of the hotel, Arthur decided to start looking there.

“You - uh, seen a feller come through here? Had a few scrapes on his face?” Arthur asks the hotel owner, politely.  _ Looks like he got ate up by some wolves?  _ The same hotel manager he’d ran into when he was in town with Mary-Beth, Karen, Tilly, and Uncle. Maybe this wasn’t going to go as smoothly as he’d originally planned.

“I remember you,” The hotel owner’s eyes glint with recognition, obviously for Arthur but he seems to recall the man Arthur is mentioning. “I don’t want any more trouble from you, now.”

“Well, that’s what you’re gonna get if you don’t point me in the right direction,” Arthur’s quick to resort to intimidation, leaning in close against the counter with a palm splayed flat out over the top of it. A humorless smile coupled with the words being hissed out.“Now, where is he?”

The owner gives in soon enough, pointing down the hall towards the bathroom. “He ordered a bath a couple of minutes ago,” He says, and that’s all the information Arthur needs. “But I-”

“Thank you,” Arthur shoves himself away from the counter, regarding the owner with a smile a little more sincere before walking off towards the entrance of the hallway to his left. “There won’t be any trouble, buddy - me and this feller’s just havin’ a chat is all.”

He stops at the closed bathroom door, bringing his fist up against the wood and he knocks.

The slightly aggravated sigh that comes from behind the door is unmistakable, the voice that follows it even more so. “No, I don’t need any help, thanks.”

“Oh, I beg to differ, Marston,” The door’s unlocked - to Arthur’s surprise, and he lets himself in. 

John, submerged in a tub full of soapy water, peers up at him with an expression that is probably all too telling. Still, he’s smirking at where Arthur stands, leaned up against the door, like he expected nobody but him to be here. “You followin’ me, now?”

“Maybe,” Arthur picks himself up, making quick work of his jacket, suspenders, and shirt. He can feel John’s eyes on him even when Arthur isn’t looking. “I can let you get some peace and quiet, though, if that’s what you’d prefer.”

“Nah,” John says automatically, leaning back in the tub, eyes still lingering on Arthur as he strips out of the last articles of clothing. “Wouldn’t know peace and quiet if it were standin’ right in front of me.”

***

“I gotta say, Marston, it don’t look like you’re huntin’ for any leads,” Arthur says. The water is still hot enough that it stings his skin, but the heat is something he gets used to eventually. 

John is laid back in front of him, back against Arthur’s chest and his head dropped back against Arthur’s shoulder. The tub is too small to fit both of them properly, and John has resorted to letting his feet rest propped up over the edge. 

“I jus’ got here,” John says, eyes closed. The cuts on his face seem to be healing, slowly - at least, Abigail’s makeshift stitches holding together the pinkened skin. “Was gonna go out in the morning - see what I could dig up. Think we both deserve a rest, Arthur.”

“Restin’ seems to be the only thing you know how to do,” Arthur’s fingers keep idly running up the inside of John’s forearm. Out of the corner of his eye, John smiles, soft and amused.

“So you tell me,” John’s got one of his eyes opened, peering up at Arthur when he glances down at him. Arthur can’t help but return his smile. “Couldn’t do much besides  _ rest _ anyway, what with you and Abigail fussin’ over me.”

“We were worried about you, John,” Arthur dips his head, presses a kiss into John’s hair. “You nearly got yourself killed up there.”

“I’m  _ fine, _ ” Arthur can practically hear John rolling his eyes. “I know how to look after myself, alright?”

“If you say so,” Arthur says, dubious. He glances down again to see John’s still smiling.

“Besides, I’m pullin’ my weight again, ain’t I?” John lifts his hand out of the water in some waving gesture, the sound of the water splashing seems to be the loudest thing in the room. “I got us that train job - even you said so yourself that it was a good idea.”

“And it was,” Arthur admits, murmuring the words against John’s hair. “only we’re gonna need a few more of those ideas before we can get out of here.”

John tilts his head back a little more at that, looking up at Arthur with his brows furrowed. “Dutch talkin’ about movin’ to a new camp  _ already _ ? Feel like we just got to Horseshoe-”

“What? No,” Arthur pulls back, matching John’s confused expression. “I mean me, you, Abigail, and Jack.”

He’d mentioned the idea to Abigail back in Colter, the two of them sitting at John’s bedside one night when he was asleep. It seemed like only a mere idea then, a glimpse of hope, but Arthur had known from the warm smile Abigail had given him that it was a dream she’d had as well.

John had always described Abigail as the dreaming type, always wishing for something better for them. Seems Arthur could’ve been described that way too. Seems the only type John had was those that dreamed.

“Oh,” John says. He sounds unsure, perhaps thoughtful. Arthur lets his gaze drift away from John’s face, focuses down to his own fingers against John’s forearm.

“What with everything that happened in Blackwater, I feel like it’s only a matter of time before everything comes drawin’ to close,” Arthur elaborates. He can still feel John’s eyes on him. “I don’t want us wrapped up in that.”

“Just  _ disappear _ ?” He hears John ask.

“Yes,” Arthur says, and he lets himself look at John once more. “if you want to. I meant to say something earlier, maybe back in Colter but you was out cold most of the time. We could go out west somewhere, maybe-”

“ _ Okay _ ,” John cuts him off, and the word is almost as sincere as the smile on his features. He says it again. “Okay.”

John reaches up out of the water again, bringing a hand up to Arthur’s face. He has to sit up a bit, twist his torso around - but he kisses Arthur. 

The kiss is small, more lingering, but sweet - saying so many things that neither of them could say through words, and for right now, it’s enough.

“I’ll talk to Abigail about it tomorrow,” John says, sitting up fully now and reaching out to grab the bottle of cheap champagne that’s sitting on the floor beside the tub. “I’ll see what I can find out in the morning, maybe I can earn us enough money to get us started, anyway.”

“Okay,” Arthur says.

They sit there in the tub until the water runs cold, passing the bottle of champagne back and forth, dreaming of a not so distant future ahead of them.


End file.
